


Ocean Eyes

by fusion-ego (Nerd_of_Camelot)



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Apologies, Blackmail, Explanations, Gen, He's only mentioned though, I just needed more characters without using Mark's 900000000 egos, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Listen Dark fucked up in high school ok, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Past Relationship(s), also I despise the name Infelix, implied gang activity, so Dark Felix is Fear in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/fusion-ego
Summary: Oliver “Virus” Terry was a simple man―he stayed at home, avoiding everyone except his roommates, and spent all his time on his computer, whether that meant using it or tearing it apart to modify it. He was naturally gifted with technology, to the point he damn near dreamed in computer code and could hack his way into pretty much any database or program you put in front of him…Everyone called him Virus for a reason, after all.But, all in all, Virus was a simple man, so when his phone screen suddenly blinked awake, and Johnny Depp’s voice piped out,“Theyalldeserve to die…”,Virus thought it fair to say he was surprised. For a moment he stared at the caller ID and listened to Dark’s ringtone, but eventually hedidpick up.





	Ocean Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a rough couple of months featuring a lot of stress and writer's block, especially concerning commissions, but I managed to sit down and get this finished off today. It's 12 pages of meandering around primarily in Dark's POV but I had fun with it, so...
> 
> Hope y'all have fun with it too.
> 
> Might be a second part to come eventually, but idk. After I finish off the last two requests in my inbox I'm taking a break from ego stuff, so if it does come it'll come... Uh... _Later?_

When Seán “Jack” McLoughlin still attended high school, he’d been a mousy little stringbean of a boy―all knees and elbows with messy hair that was perpetually falling in his face, always wearing shirts three times his size, always being swallowed by an enormous jacket even on the sunniest days of the year.

He was only just barely within range of “healthy” in terms of weight, scrawny enough that those few times anyone had caught him without a shirt they’d been concerned he wasn’t eating enough, but in spite of that, when he needed to, he could throw one hell of a punch. He enjoyed a little working out here and there, had some muscles no one knew about, that sort of thing.

But, of course, that was not the point.

The point was, the last time that Jack had seen Damien “Dark” Bradley was when he was in high school, and they had both changed a lot since then.

Dark was broader, now, more refined. He’d finally fully grown into his body type, finally seemed completely comfortable in his body. He was also more scarred now than he’d been in high school―Jack supposed that tended to happen when you didn’t see someone for nearing half a decade. He dressed better, too, although he’d always been one of the best dressed people that Jack knew.

Jack, for his part, had started making working out a priority at some point, had started gaining some weight at another. He’d grown into his body as well, filling out his muscles but never getting huge from it; he stayed lean and fit and (though he’d never admit it to anyone but his closest friends) he’d actually gotten to be quite flexible over the years. He’d also begun keeping his hair much shorter, styling the top to be longer, sticking up off of his head in a stylishly unkempt manner rather than the unruly rats’ nest it had been in high school. He’d gauged his ears, started wearing clothes that fit...

They’d both changed a lot.

So when they ran into each other five years after Jack graduated, it took a second for them to recognize each other. Of course, Jack had “glowed up” enough that he wasn’t the first to be recognized. He recognized Dark first...

And the moment he did, the first thing that he did was punch that smug motherfucker  _ right in the mouth. _

Dark went reeling backwards, hand flying to his lower lip as a startled curse left him.

Jack hadn’t felt so angry in a  _ long time. _ In fact, he didn’t think he’d been this angry since high school. The night of graduation, if he recalled correctly. The last time he’d seen this asshole was the last time he’d been so angry. He’d thought he’d buried it all, gotten over it, but apparently…

Apparently not.

He didn’t stick around to talk it out with Dark, of course, because if he stayed he was afraid he might end up doing more than giving that  _ bastard _ a fat lip. He didn’t want to go to jail today―not over something that happened almost five years ago.

He just stood there seething for a second, locked in a silent staredown with the still obviously startled man in front of him, and then turned on his heel and stormed off. He wasn’t sure Dark even knew who he was. It made him laugh a little, although bitterly, to think the guy might just think some random punk came up and decked him for no reason. It’d probably be easier to believe than the fact that the timid little nobody he’d completely ruined in high school had not only become a fucking  _ catch, _ but had finally decided he was going to fight back when someone hurt him.

Five years was a long time to wait to be able to punch him, though, and Jack thought he might have actually punched him harder than he’d wanted to all those years ago. But it was whatever―Dark probably deserved it. Dark actually probably deserved to get his ass beat for what he’d done, honestly, but Jack wasn’t much for violence, really. He tried to limit fights if he could; just throw one punch and be done with it, you know?

He didn’t like beating the piss out of people. He never had.

It kind of went against his entire life philosophy of “Positive Mental Attitude” to just go around beating the piss out of everyone who wronged him, so he didn’t really do it that often. Or… At all, really. Which made Dark  _ very _ special because Jack had been saving that punch with the intention of giving it to him for five years and never actually faltered on the thought that, should he ever see him again, he was gonna pop him a good one.

By the time he walked into his usual little bar hangout (and his job), where he’d actually been headed when he’d run into that fucker, he was bouncing and giddy from the pure thrill of finally having done it. Sure, there was still some anger just festering away in his chest, and it’d likely stay there forever, but the satisfaction of finally doing what he’d promised himself he’d do the day after graduation was currently overpowering it.

“What’s got you in such a sickeningly chipper mood?” His best friend, Chase Brody, asked from his barstool.

Chase and Jack had gone to school together―in fact they’d known each other since they were toddlers, and Chase had actually been there for a lot of the shit that went down the night of graduation. In turn, Jack had been Chase’s best man at his wedding two years ago and then his only support through all of the divorce bullshit less than a month ago. But what they’d been through wasn’t the point, unfortunately. The point was that, to the shock of everyone they knew casually, Chase was actually the owner of this little bar, and as such wasn’t currently drinking, since the bar was still open.

He only drank after closing, even on slow days like today.

“I saw Dark today,” Jack chirped, and watched the color drain from Chase’s face, along with the faces of one or two of their patrons who’d been around long enough to have heard the whole gruesome story of Jack and Dark.

“What happened?” Chase asked immediately, getting up, “Are you okay? Is  _ he _ okay? I mean he’s a bastard and I hate him but did you kill him? I don’t want you going to jail.”

“I didn’t kill him, Chase,” Jack rolled his eyes as he approached, “And yes, I’m fine. Just need to disinfect my knuckles since I cut ‘em on his teeth.”

“What did you do?” His friend changed course, going for the actual bar so that he could dig out the first aid kit, and if he sounded a little irritated that Jack had neglected to answer the question the first time he’d asked, Jack ignored it.

“Exactly what I promised I’d do!” Jack sat down on his usual stool, “I popped him a good one. Right in his mouth.”

At this, Chase barked a laugh, “You actually punched him?!”

“I actually punched him!” Jack confirmed, very nearly giggling, “And  _ damn _ did it feel good!”

Chase shook his head, chuckling softly. “Never seen ye so giddy over violence.”

He approached with the first aid kit, plopping it down on the bar in front of Jack, and Jack went about disinfecting the small cuts in his first two knuckles with a hell of a lot more cheer than anyone ought to.

“Don’t think I’ve ever  _ felt _ so giddy about violence,” Jack admitted, “But I’ve been waitin’ five  _ years _ to pop him in his lyin’ mouth, so…”

One of the patrons, a masked magician named Marvin who frequently had shows over on the small stage in the corner on busy nights, slid gracefully onto the stool next to him. “So, Dames finally got what was coming to him?” He asked, voice smooth as honey, as  _ always. _

The funny thing about Marvin, Jack thought, was that he wasn’t familiar in the slightest, and yet he  _ knew _ Marvin had gone to school with Chase, Dark, and himself. He’d graduated the same year as Dark. He’d actually known him personally back then―and, reportedly, had never been much of a fan of him despite hanging around him.

“What was comin’ to him from  _ me, _ at least.” Jack agreed with a snicker.

Marvin and Chase chuckled, and the only other patron merely shook her head and laughed. She was probably the only one in the building who hadn’t had the misfortune of meeting Dark face to face.

Given the sorts of things she’d heard about him, though, Jack had little doubt that her first reaction upon meeting him would be to tell him to fuck right off.

It made him laugh again.

* * *

“Surprised” did not quite describe the feeling bouncing around in Damien “Dark” Bradley’s chest.

“Surprised”, he thought, was quite an understatement.

“Surprised” was the feeling that had registered when he realized that he was face to face with Jack McLoughlin again after five years of not seeing hide nor hair of the young Irish immigrant.

The recognition hadn’t been immediate by any means. Jack had changed a lot since high school, and although Dark had thought he was an adorable little stringbean back then, he had to admit he was  _ really _ into the man’s new style. It suited him in a way the large sweaters and baggy hoodies, the longer hair and sheepish face, just hadn’t. It drew attention in the best way possible, and Dark admired that regardless of the fact he’d never much cared for attention-seekers.

Not that he thought Jack was seeking attention―not after what Dark had put him through in high school.

Surprise had registered first, upon seeing him, then a mild twinge of attraction and something deeper that he snuffed out on the spot, and then… Pain.

He stumbled back, hand flying to his mouth and a curse flying from his lips.

Jack looked so good with a scowl on his face and blood on his knuckles that Dark could really only stand there and think how unfair it was that his adorable little Irish stringbean had become such an attractive and  _ strong _ man.

He expected Jack to say something, or to hit him again, but Jack did neither. He merely stood there a moment, visibly seething, then turned on his heel and stalked off.

Dark was more than willing to admit that he’d deserved the bloody lip he got from the encounter. He’d done some  _ fucked up shit _ to Jack in high school, and even if most of it hadn’t been voluntary on his part that didn’t mean it sucked any less for Jack when it was happening.

That also didn’t mean Dark was any less taken aback by Jack punching him.

… He needed to try to talk to Jack.

…

… He could not  _ believe _ he’d just thought that.

Not only was it far out of the range of his usual response to something like this, but the very  _ idea _ that Jack would even  _ listen _ to him was  _ completely preposterous. _ Jack  _ hated  _ him. He’d said as much the last time they’d spoken and the right hook that still had Dark’s bloody lip throbbing indicated that that sentiment hadn’t changed in the  _ slightest _ in the past five years.

Still.

There were things he needed to say to Jack, explanations and apologies that the younger man was owed, especially after five years. He may not  _ accept _ them, but he was owed them nonetheless.

Dark needed to try to talk to him.

Even if it was too late to change how Jack felt about him, he deserved the truth. He deserved to know that Dark hadn’t actually believed 99% of what he’d told him that night, that Dark could  _ never _ mean those words where he was concerned. That Dark saw him as so much more back then than he’d led him to believe.

He straightened himself out at last, wiping the blood from his chin and instinctively remembering middle school.

He shuddered and pushed the memory away.

Jack was more important.

“Virus,” He said, when the man picked up, “I need you to look into someone for me.”

* * *

Oliver “Virus” Terry was a simple man―he stayed at home, avoiding everyone except his roommates, and spent all his time on his computer, whether that meant using it or tearing it apart to modify it. He was naturally gifted with technology, to the point he damn near dreamed in computer code and could hack his way into pretty much any database or program you put in front of him… And that was ignoring his ability to build any gadget he damn well pleased as long as he had the parts for it without ever looking at a blueprint.

Everyone called him Virus for a reason, after all.

But, all in all, Virus was a simple man.

He had few friends and fewer people he trusted enough to give his personal phone number to, and all of those amounted, more or less, to his roommates and exactly three other people. He wanted very little out of life except to tinker with his tech and figure out how to make things smarter, better,  _ faster. _ He cared little for people in general, his favorite food was chicken flavored ramen, he didn’t believe in astrology, he had a guilty obsession with magic and tarot, and he only left his home for weddings, funerals, and doctors appointments.

And he really,  _ really _ didn’t answer a whole lot of phone calls.

He preferred to text, honestly, and few people had the right to call him and expect him to pick up the phone.

Dark was, unfortunately, one of those people.

_ Fortunately, _ Dark didn’t often call him. Or text him. Or even contact him at all by any means. They both preferred to keep their distance from each other, though they got along well enough. They were just… Not particularly social people. They worked best together when they didn’t have to do it terribly often.

So when his phone screen suddenly blinked awake, and Johnny Depp’s voice piped out,  _ “They  _ **_all_ ** _ deserve to die…” _ , Virus thought it fair to say he was surprised. For a moment he stared at the caller ID and listened to Dark’s ringtone, but eventually he  _ did _ pick up.

“Virus,” Said Dark, with no other greeting, “I need you to look into someone for me.”

Now  _ that _ explained Dark calling. That wasn’t something they would be able to easily do over text. It was easiest for him to simply stay on the line with Dark while he searched and tell him what he found as he found it.

“Sure thing,” Virus replied, pausing to take a swig from his energy drink, “Who are we stalking?”

“Seán William McLoughlin.” Dark supplied.

Virus couldn’t help his drawn out and intrigued noise as he began digging into the databases he’d need to get into. He’d known Dark long enough to have heard the story of him and Seán “Jack” McLoughlin. They went  _ way _ back. But Dark had never shown interest in finding out about him before now.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” The man sighed, sounding annoyed. “You knew this was going to happen eventually.”

“Well,  _ yeah.” _ Virus snorted, “You’ve always been head over heels for him.”

Virus and Dark had met in middle school, though anyone who’d gone to school with them wouldn’t remember Virus. He’d been… Well. He’d  _ never _ been a people person, okay? But he’d known Dark, and he’d been rather close to Dark during the whole Jack debacle. He knew all the dirty little details even Jack didn’t.

Dark did not justify the implication he’d been in love with Jack with a response, instead saying, “Don’t dig too deep. I just need to know where he works and how often he works there.”

“Sure thing.” Virus said, though he already knew he was going to dig  _ way _ too deep.

What Dark didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

A moment passed in silence between the two of them as Virus skimmed the files he’d dug up on Jack, searching for relevant information on his own first, as usual. He’d set his programs on it in a minute.

“So why the sudden resurgence of interest?” Virus couldn’t help but ask.

Dark was quiet a moment, then sighed and said, “I saw him today.”

“You got to meet back up with him?” Against all odds, he perked up at the thought.

Hey, maybe being around Jack would get that fucking  _ stick _ back out of Dark’s ass. He’d been so much more tolerable in high school, after all. So much more tolerable with Jack as a constant thought in his mind.

“I got to meet with his  _ fist,” _ Dark corrected with a rare note of humor to his voice, “He punched me in the mouth.”

Virus snorted on instinct, muffling his laugh in his hoodie sleeve.

He scrolled back up to the top of the file he’d been perusing to get a look at the man. He gave a low whistle upon seeing him, because  _ damn _ had that boy grown into his body. Virus almost felt proud of him.

“I’m glad the mental image brings you joy,” Dark’s eyeroll was clear as day, “But what are you whistling at?”

“I’m impressed.” Virus replied simply, then, “Anyways, it looks to me like he’s working at some little hole-in-the-wall bar on the South end called  _ The Oak.” _

“Any idea of his schedule?”

“Hunting it down now.”

* * *

Dark had never been to The Oak before, but he knew of it. He passed it every time he went for a meeting with Fear, and though that wasn’t terribly often, especially in recent months, he remembered where it was. If he wasn’t mistaken, Anti frequented the place when he could be bothered to leave his apartment.

Going there  _ right now _ was a bad idea, though, and Dark knew that, but for once he couldn’t find it within himself to care. If he stayed away any longer then showing back up would seem forced and sudden.

At least right now he had a reason to seek Jack out, right?

… Right.

The Oak, as it turned out, was a quaint little place―hardly the “hole-in-the-wall” Virus had described it as, if he was honest. It had all the appearance of a traditional pub and a hand-carved sign hanging out front declaring its name. It had been that very sign that made Dark remember its location, if he was honest. It was an eye-catcher, in spite of its simplicity.

He paused a moment out front, gazing through one of the windows as inconspicuously as he could to get a read of the inside of the place. It had been about an hour now since Jack had punched him, so he didn’t doubt the man was on the clock right now as the bar would  _ probably _ begin filling up soon. He hated to distract him from his job, he  _ did, _ but he’d never talk to him if he didn’t try.

He’d already argued with himself for well over 45 minutes about this.

The inside of the bar, it seemed, was just as quaint and ‘traditional’ as the outside, and given the strong wood motif throughout he was beginning to think he understood why Mr. Brody had chosen to call it The Oak. It looked to be well-kept, and when he stepped quietly in he almost felt as if he’d gone back in time. The wood surface of the tables and counter was polished almost to a mirror finish, while the floor was polished to a lesser degree, but still shone. He didn’t doubt Mr. Brody took a lot of pride in keeping the place looking nice.

He knew  _ he _ would, if he owned the place.

He also knew Mr. Brody, of course, but given they’d only spoken a handful of times he felt he didn’t really have the right to call him ‘Chase’, or that he ever would.

Jack and Mr. Brody both stood behind the counter, talking animatedly, and even from here he could see that Jack’s right hand was bandaged. He seemed no worse for the wear, overall, though, and in fact seemed to be in good spirits. Dark couldn’t say he was surprised―punching him had likely been one hell of an adrenaline rush, and likely a welcome one, at that.

The bell above the door jingled as the door swung shut, and both Mr. Brody and Jack turned to him.

Dark remained as impartial as he could as he approached the bar, aware his lip was still bleeding a bit but refusing to admit even to himself that that was because he’d been chewing on it from nerves on the way here. He watched as Mr. Brody seemed to turn pale and threw nervous glances at Jack, who seemed…

Not entirely surprised, Dark supposed, but maybe a little taken aback.

He didn’t blame him.

Arriving at the bar, Mr. Brody uttered something to Jack, who waved him off. Hands up, Mr. Brody backed away, then headed through a door Dark presumed led to the back of the bar. Dark did not take a seat.

His eyes strafed toward a man a little further down the bar who appeared to be watching him from the corner of his eye from behind a cat-shaped mask.

_ Marvin. _

Well. He’d have to tread carefully if Jack was hanging around  _ him. _ One wrong move and he could be vomiting spiders for days―which sounded  _ completely outlandish, _ but Marvin had done that to him once, in high school. He wasn’t particularly interested in experiencing that again. He’d been choking up spider legs for  _ weeks _ after the vomiting stopped.

“Jack,” He greeted, finally, after a long, silent staredown.

“Dark.” Replied Jack, expression impartial, tone clipped and cold.

Though he’d done  _ much _ to deserve such a response, Dark couldn’t help the way his chest ached because of it. He pushed the ache away and pretended it had never been there to begin with… Just like a lot of other feelings he had concerning Jack.

“If you have a moment,” Dark began, watching as Jack rolled his eyes and fighting not to be discouraged by that, “I’d like to speak with you.”

A snort left Jack as he rolled his eyes again, but tellingly he didn’t turn Dark down. Instead, he said, “Fine. Speak.”

So he did.

“I am aware that I have hurt you in the past. Deeply.” Dark said, and was it his imagination, or did surprise register on Jack’s face for a moment? “I said and did a lot of things that I shouldn’t have―things that probably shouldn’t be said about or done to anyone.”

“No shit.” Jack snarked, crossing his arms.

“Please let me finish,” Dark sighed.

Jack’s only reply was another eye roll.

Dark soldiered on. Apologizing was hard. “I know that it means very little, particularly five years after the fact, but I  _ am _ sorry for all of it.” He said, “And I would very much appreciate the opportunity to explain myself to you. If nothing else you deserve to know why I acted that way.”

Something in Jack’s expression softened just the slightest bit, blue eyes not looking quite so cold all of a sudden.

There was a silence.

“I accept your apology,” Jack finally said, slowly, “But I don’t forgive you.”

“That’s understandable.” Dark granted, unsurprised and hardly even disappointed.

A deep breath passed through Jack’s nostrils, then out through his mouth in a heavy sigh. “You can explain yourself all you want, but frankly I don’t trust your explanations since they’re only coming out now that I’m actually, y’know,  _ attractive.” _

Dark nearly winced at that, knowing Jack’s issues with his appearance were at least in part his fault. The things he’d said the night of Jack’s graduation… Well. He certainly hadn’t done anything to help Jack’s already poor self-esteem, that was for sure.

“You were always attractive,” Dark sighed.

The glare he got in response was scathing, and Jack’s voice dripped with annoyance when he replied, “If you want me to trust you, you really shouldn’t immediately lie to my face.” Before Dark could even open his mouth to protest, Jack continued, “That tiny thing you screwed around with in high school was a  _ wretched little urchin. _ You can’t sugar coat  _ shit, _ Dark.”

Dark  _ did _ wince at that, and Jack obviously noticed. He couldn’t help it, though―hearing something he’d told him echoed back just reinforced to him how  _ fucked up _ it had been… And how glad he was he no longer had contact with the ones who had convinced him to say and do the things he had to Jack.

“At the very least can we agree that you were cute?” Dark asked, quirking a brow and trying for a smile.

Jack snorted and looked away, but his lips quirked up a bit. “You always thought I was cute,” He agreed softly, “Cuz I was tiny.”

“I could almost fit your entire waist in my hands.”

“You used to make jokes about being able to play my ribs like a xylophone because they were so prominent.” Jack’s lips lifted further, something like fondness creeping into his tone and expression.

“I still think I could’ve.” Dark found himself chuckling.

“I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

Jack looked to him again, at last, and for a moment they stared at each other, caught in each other’s eyes. Both were smiling and  _ God _ the things that Dark would do just to keep Jack looking at him like that. Like he still might care. Like he might be able to forgive him.

But their smiles soon faded, and Jack looked away again, biting his lip.

Dark sighed, running his hand through his hair in a nervous tic he thought he’d suppressed  _ years _ ago. “I really did care for you back then,” He said.

“Did you?” Jack asked, sounding despondent.

“I did.” Dark confirmed, sighing again. “And I suppose that was probably my first mistake.”

Jack snorted.

“Not because of you. Or your appearance. Or anything I led you to believe I hated about you.” He managed, “But because of… Well.”

He wasn’t sure how to say it. How to explain that he’d been  _ blackmailed. _ That his entire  _ life _ had been at risk, along with those of the few people he really cared about, Jack included. That, in the grand scheme of things, throwing the person he loved most under the bus and ruining his self-esteem had seemed worth it in order to save his family and friends from a fate worse than death.

He nearly gagged when he realized what he’d just admitted, even if it was only in his own head.

“Because of…?” Jack prompted, turning his head toward him again, brows furrowed.

Dark took a deep breath. “I was in league with some… Unsavory characters, back then.” He forced out, “People I should never have even humored. But I thought I was stronger than I was, I thought… I thought it wouldn’t be hard to keep them away from people I cared about.” A bitter laugh escaped him, “They proved me wrong.  _ Terribly _ wrong. You remember what happened to Anti?”

Anti had been the closest thing Dark ever had to a best friend, aside from Wilford, who he’d known since grade school. But he and Anti had more common interests, and almost any time he hadn’t spent with Virus, Wil, or Jack, he’d spent with Anti. They were nearly inseparable, even if they fought frequently.

But Anti had also been the first person to suffer because of Dark’s mistakes.

Brows furrowing further, Jack uttered, “Someone dragged him out behind the school and slit his throat.” He shook his head, “You mean to tell me someone dragged him out there and nearly killed him to get to  _ you?” _

“To prove a point,” Dark agreed grimly. “They told me it was in my best interests not to cross them. I tested them. They went after Anti.”

Though there was some disbelief evident in Jack’s posture and expression, he slowly nodded, mumbling, “What better way to prove a point? Go after someone they care about instead of them. Let them know you can get to whoever you want,  _ whenever  _ you want.”

_ “Exactly.” _ Dark stressed.

“But how do you know it was them who did it?” Jack asked, chewing his lip again, “How do you know they even had anything to do with it?”

“Video evidence.” He admitted, and he nearly gagged at the memory. He hadn’t been able to stop watching once the video started. He’d been frozen to the spot, horrified. “They sent it to me in a text. Said it was a first warning.”

The younger man nodded slowly. He seemed to be connecting the dots in his head, bit by bit.

Dark chose to soldier on once more.

“When they found out about us, they… Well, they weren’t happy. They didn’t like the idea of being associated with…” He was a grown man, and yet he didn’t have the courage to repeat their words. Didn’t have the heart to repeat the slur they’d hurled at him time after time. “They told me if I kept seeing you I had to keep it on the downlow. Keep the general public from finding out.”

Understanding lit in Jack’s eyes, but there was a firm, angry fire there as well.

“I was too much of a coward to go against them.” He continued, “Mostly out of fear of what they’d do to  _ you _ if I did.”

That fire only burned hotter in Jack’s eyes. He was  _ fuming _ already.

“They finally told me they’d had enough of me ‘fucking around’,” Dark couldn’t help making the air quotes and rolling his eyes. “They told me to end it, and they told me they wanted  _ no chance _ of you ever wanting me back.”

“So you listened.” The Irishman deduced.

“So I listened.” Dark agreed, and against all odds he felt a weight lift from his shoulders at finally having told Jack the truth. “I did what I thought would work. I told you things I didn’t mean because I knew they would hurt. I knew you wouldn’t forgive me before I even started talking that night.”

Jack was visibly seething again, though he seemed to be trying to keep a cap on it.

“What would have happened if you hadn’t broken it off with me?” He asked through clenched teeth. “Who would have suffered for that?”

“You.” Dark said, “Me. Wilford. Anti, Virus, Fear, Mark, Marvin, Chase… Need I go on?”

Jack huffed in annoyance, but nodded his understanding of the situation nonetheless. “You know I’m not just going to blindly believe that, right? I need proof.”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you  _ have _ proof?” Jack asked, anger fading somewhat into curiosity as he lifted a brow.

“Give me about twenty minutes and I will.” Dark chuckled against all odds, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“Fine.” Jack agreed.

Dark took a somewhat hesitant seat on one of the barstools as he dug into his messages app, scrolling as far down as he could. They wouldn’t be the  _ last _ contact he’d contacted, wouldn’t be at the  _ very _ bottom of the list, but they’d be close. He hadn’t spoken to them for three years, and they’d been a very good three years indeed.

Finding the conversation history, he swallowed, glancing up briefly and finding that Jack had taken a seat next to him and was staring without a trace of shame at his phone screen over his shoulder. Dark turned to him so he could see better, not seeing the point in hiding it from him.

And then he started scrolling.

He never talked to them particularly often to begin with, so reasonably there weren’t many messages given the amount of time he’d been in contact with them, but that was still over half a decade of messages.

He chose to scroll all the way to the top, then offered his phone to Jack.

Jack hesitated, looking unsure for a moment, then took the phone.

“I would advise against watching any of the videos.” Dark told him, “None of them are pretty, regardless of which of us sent them.”

Jack nodded.

When Mr. Brody at last returned from the back room, Jack had been reading for nearly five minutes while Dark watched with thinly veiled anxiety eating away at his insides. He just kept pushing down the feelings fluttering in his chest. They were pointless, after all. It didn’t matter what feelings he had for Jack―even after finding out the truth, the probability of being forgiven was low.

The probability of Jack even  _ humoring _ his feelings if he  _ did _ forgive him was even lower.

Mr. Brody gave the two of them a wary look, but seemed to decide Jack could very well handle himself and sidled on past without saying a word, coming to a stop in front of Marvin instead. Dark watched from the corner of his eye as they spoke, knowing simply staring at Jack was pointless, anyway.

Some lighthearted part of him that, by all means, should have been buried  _ years _ ago, perked up at the fact that Mr. Brody and Marvin were very clearly flirting with each other. Even if he and Marvin had never been close, and had never liked each other all that much, it was… Nice, he supposed, to see Marvin finally expressing interest in someone.

Particularly someone like Mr. Brody, who Dark knew from past experience wasn’t the type to treat someone badly unless they deserved it.

Finally, he heard Jack take a breath, and his gaze was drawn back to the Irishman.

Jack offered him his phone, eyes set on the countertop in front of him. Dark took it without a word, glancing at it only long enough to see that Jack had read  _ everything. _ He turned the screen off and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

Jack took another breath, this one deeper. He looked a little rattled, and Dark couldn’t blame him. This knowledge, along with the types of things Dark had let them get away with saying to him, couldn’t be sitting well with him.

“I believe you,” Jack finally said, voice soft.

Dark didn’t say anything. He just watched him―he knew that face. That was the face Jack made when he had more to say but wasn’t sure how to say it.

“... I still don’t forgive you,” He finally uttered. “I understand why you did it, but that― that doesn’t make it any less fucked up. That doesn’t mean it’s okay that you did it.”

“I know.” Dark, again, wasn’t surprised or really even disappointed. He’d expected this. He’d known this was how this would go, but…

Well.

Best to clear the air, right? At least get the apology and the explanations out of the way. Maybe finally be able to leave things with Jack on better terms… Even if it was going to be nigh impossible for Dark to make himself leave Jack alone now that he’d seen him again. Spoken to him again.

Dark was obsessive, and he knew that.

But  _ goddammit, _ he’d hurt Jack enough. He  _ would _ respect his boundaries. He  _ would _ leave him alone if that was what he wanted. He  _ would. _

No matter how much he didn’t want to.

He had no right to chase Jack.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” He said, “I never did. But as I said… You deserved the truth. You deserved to know I didn’t mean what I said, even if it  _ is _ too little, too late.”

The snort Jack gave in reply was half-hearted.

“... I would, however,” Dark hesitantly said, “Like a chance to get to know you again. I understand entirely if you don’t want that―you’ve every right to tell me exactly where I can stick my desire to know you better.”

Jack gave a startled little laugh in response to that, eyes the same depth and shade as the ocean finally meeting Dark’s again. “I mean… As long as you don’t try anything like that shit again,” He said, and his tone said he was only half-joking.

“To be frank, Jack…” Dark glanced toward Marvin and Mr. Brody again, then motioned toward them as he continued, “I’d rather be on the receiving end of whatever hex our dear magician put on me in high school again than hurt you like that again.”

The earnestness in his own voice was almost painful. He’d had his emotions on lockdown for a long time. He’d been denying even simple amusement since the last time he spoke to Jack, thinking life would be easier without emotion… And for the most part it was.

But with Jack around, it was…

It was  _ hard. _

If not because Jack would never trust the emotionless shell of himself Dark had become, then because Jack made him  _ feel _ things. He always had.

He made him feel such intense,  _ all-consuming _ feelings that Dark almost felt like he was getting high every time he was around him, back in high school. He made his heart  _ ache _ and made him  _ giddy _ and he hated him and loved him so much at the same time it was almost unbearable. No, it  _ was _ unbearable. It was  _ painful _ and more than he could take, but he  _ loved  _ it.

After so long, feeling that strange, pleasant and unpleasant contact high again was  _ amazing. _

Amazing and terrible.

Just like Jack.

_ Just _ like Jack.

Jack, who was chewing the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, still maintaining eye contact. Who looked so open and vulnerable and so closed off at the same time. Who held Dark’s heart―no, his entire  _ being― _ in his pale, soft hands right now. Whose decision on this matter would make or break Dark entirely, even if Dark would never admit to it.

_ Jack, _ who, against every instinct, Dark loved with his entire heart and soul and  _ always _ had. Always  _ would, _ no matter what he decided.

Dark knew, though, that if Jack allowed him another chance, he wouldn’t know how to handle it. He wouldn’t know what to feel. He was so prepared for Jack to tell him to fuck off, to tell him never to speak to him again, that he was prepared to try and do exactly that. He knew his face was impartial again, now, after that lapse he’d had just a moment ago. He knew he looked like the decision wouldn’t matter, like he’d be fine either way, and in a way he supposed he  _ would. _

If Jack told him to fuck off, he’d do so to the best of his ability. He’d stand up and leave and he’d go about his life the same emotionless shell he’d been for five years, keeping all his feelings in a little box in the back of his mind and he would never allow himself to look back. Never allow himself to wonder what might have been. But it would  _ suck, _ and during those late nights when he could no longer contain everything he knew he would lose himself to those bottled emotions and  _ cry _ and  _ hate himself _ and then in the morning he would be fine again.

If Jack allowed him this, if Jack let him try to get close to him again, though, he may just be able to start salvaging his emotions. He may be able to let himself be a person again, if an even more dysfunctional one than he’d been to begin with.

Damien had been a wonderful, loving person.

Dark was just what was left.

“Okay,” Jack finally said, breaking Dark from his thoughts before they could spiral further, thank  _ God, _ “I’ll give you another chance. And we’ll see if it works out… On  _ one _ condition.”

“Anything,” Dark agreed, too quickly.

He couldn’t be bothered to care.

Jack smiled in reply, poked him in the nose, and said, “You are  _ not _ allowed to do that weird emotionless face around me if we’re alone.”

Dark’s heart squeezed in his chest, and he let his lips twitch up. “I believe I can manage that.”

“Awesome.” Jack grinned, then stood and vaulted over the bar, “Now are you going to buy a drink, or what?”

“Well, if it gives me a chance to talk to the cute bartender…” Dark trailed.

Jack laughed and hit him with a towel he’d pulled from beneath the counter, and honestly? Dark could listen to that  _ all day. _

“Well the cute bartender’s only talkin’ if yer payin’.” Jack advised with a wink, “So order somethin’.”

And Dark did.


End file.
